


Ant-Man's Best Friend

by MushFund



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Be prepared for lots of doggie adorableness, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MushFund/pseuds/MushFund
Summary: Following his ostracization from his daughter and the tragic loss of his wife, the legendary scientist Hank Pym is left with a sole companion: an affable, mutated mutt.Based on the events of the Ant-Man movies.
Relationships: Hank Pym & Hope Van Dyne & Janet Van Dyne, Hank Pym x Dog Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	1. Hope's... Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story on here, so I am still learning how it works, please be kind and expect errors to be a possibility. Thank you for reading, any feedback is much appreciated!

The starry reflection of the bright lamp leapt onto the windowpane, flickering against the backdrop of the evening sky, now a deep, murky blue as the hours slowly ticked on. In the midst of this tranquil night scene, a man, sat at a desk, grumbled, adjusting the light to better focus upon the papers set in front of him, covered in scrawls of quick, murky black ink pressings. He reflected upon, in the silence of his own mind, how long it seemed he had been at work today. While in the comforts of his own home, every waking hour was poured into a semblance of scientific work. But, naturally, when one finds themselves to be as important in their vast field as Hank Pym had found himself to be, it seemed inevitable that anything else would come secondary.

"Daddy!" a squeal broke his sequence of thoughts, a shrill reminder that there was more to his life, more so now than ever before, than mere laboratory work. It was his daughter, the very apple of his eye, the ever-bright and inquisitive Hope. For her age, she was very precocious and markedly intelligent.

"Yes, dear?" he swiveled in his chair to face the young child, a tired grin adorning his visage.

"I wanna tell you something." the girl smiled, the typical mischievous, yet endearing, twinkle of an eager youngster sparkling in her eyes.

"Go ahead." Hank took a moment to set down his pen, a minute plastic thud of the object meeting the wood of the table signaling that the youth had her father's full attention.

"I've decided I want a pet. My stuffed animals just won't do it anymore! They're no fun to play with or brush and you can't actually feed them or walk them." she sighed, as if exasperated, waving around her small hands. 

From the moment he became a dad, Dr. Pym had known this to be an inevitability. All children, at one point or another, seem to badger their parents for a furry, feathery, or fishy companion. In his own youth, now a fond memory, he recalled pestering his parents for an ant farm. Deriving from this thought was the perfect solution to his daughter's request. Turning to his side, he held his hand out, allowing a ruddy-red ant, which had previously preoccupied itself roaming about the desk with a few fellow insect compatriots, to crawl upon it. He then held it out proudly to Hope.

"Here you go, kid! What're you going to name it?" he beamed, pleased with the ease of this situation. Being such a busy family, Hank knew that they simply didn't have time to care for an animal.

"What? An ant? Dad, really?" Hope refused to touch the ant, seeming rather repulsed.

"What's wrong? It's cute! They're easy to keep, too. And very smart, and strong. Did you know that ants are capable of-"

"Yes, I know! You've told me a thousand times! I don't want an ant! I don't want any bugs! They're everywhere! I want something I can play with, and hug!" the child wouldn't be budged.

"You can play with and hug an ant. You just have to put your mind to it." For better or for worse, her father was also unrelenting, proving quite a worthy foe.

"No, you can't! It's not the same! I want a doggie! Or a kitty! Or a pony!" she cheered.

"Dear, we've talked about this, we don't have the space for a pony." a melodic female voice appeared from the doorway. It was Janet, Hank's beloved wife, peering in. Her eyes shifted to meet those of her husband, the latter of whom was desperately hoping her addition would provide a voice of reason to this conversation.

"But you and dad are gone all the time. I get lonely." Hope pouted, puffing her bottom lip and rolling out the saucer eyes. Part of her childhood intelligence involved a knack for manipulating her folks.

"I know you do, dear. Your father and I will see what we can do." Janet moved to give her daughter a tender hug. Hank simply sighed and shook his head, knowing he was defeated, yet a smile had tugged the creases of his now worn face. At the end of the day, even if it meant losing his wit at the expense of adding a non-insect creature to their menagerie, his wish to see his daughter happy exceeded any one trouble.


	2. Who Let the Dog Out? Seriously, Who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before we go to "your" point of view, I hope you all enjoy! These first two chapters are sort of filler to introduce the story, doggie magic and getting more to the plot of the films are coming soon.

The day following the "pet project", as Hank had mentally dubbed it, proved to be a busy one. He rose early in the morning in order to prepare before bidding his wife and daughter goodbye and setting out to the laboratory. It was a busy workday, yet the scientist was able to take momentary refuge during a quiet moment to speak to one of his coworkers. 

“Been a crazy day.”, Dr. Pym began, taking a sip from his much-needed mug of coffee, deadpanned, “And so early, too.”

“I know. These days, the stuff I see here, it’s like we’re living in the twilight zone. You hear about the dog out there, near the parking lot?”, the fellow scientist stared at Hank expectantly, as if the canine situation were obvious.

“No, I hadn’t.”, the gears in his mind began to shift. A dog, suddenly turning up at his workplace, after the pet debacle just the night before? Had his daughter somehow devised this?

“Yeah, Johnson was the first to see it. Some brown mutt. Nobody’s claimed it. No tags or anything. Acting real weird, though. Wouldn’t be surprised if it had rabies or something, probably eating stuff straight out of our garbage. We’re going to call animal control in the morning if it doesn’t go away. Just be careful, alright?”

“I will be. I was never much of a dog person.”, Hank stated this honestly, although he now had many questions gnawing at his mind. What were the chances of this happening? It seemed to be something out of a movie, simply too good to be true. His life wasn’t usually this full of cliches. Despite his coworker’s warnings, he was tempted to see the mongrel for himself. By the time his day of research was waning to a close, he had a plan devised to hopefully witness the furry visitor.

With most of his scientist comrades gone for the night (Hank often stayed far later than the others, being very devoted to his work), and with the large building dark, the man shuffled his way towards the communal room. With its large refrigerator stocked with the lunches of the day, packed by many a doting wife only to be forgotten with the chaos of working in a lab, the tasty morsels within would be any hungry stray’s dream.

While an expert in entomology, Hank admittedly did not know much about dogs. While he admired the creatures for their loyalty and uncanny intelligence, he found them unsuitable pets. In his many years, he had never owned one. They stunk, slobbered, shed, and were far too much work for him to consider appealing to move into his home. And, yet, they were often a lonely child’s closest companion. Keeping Hope in mind, the doctor quickly snatched up a wrapped sandwich from its chilled container. Peeling back the wax paper, he gave it a sniff. Bologna. Dogs liked processed lunch meats, right?

Suddenly noting some writing on the wrapper, the man turned it over for inspection. Have a good day, sweetie. Love, Ethel, scrawled in a thick black marker, signed with a heart. “Sorry, Ethel.”, Hank murmured to himself, as if this unknown woman would somehow know of his sandwich-stealing escapades, “I’ve got a canine to capture.”.   
It was now time to set his plan into action. Armed with a tasty snack, Hank set out for the parking lot where the creature purportedly lurked. There were certainly harder tasks in the world than getting a likely-starving dog to consume a bologna sandwich. 

The parking lot was bare, save for a few cars that seemed to be there perpetually, the smooth asphalt dimly lit by a few surrounding streetlights. Dr. Pym strode out to the middle of the lot, a patch free of white lines and within range of the alleyways and dumpsters, and set down the sandwich. He then backed away, deciding to let nature take control. He glanced at his watch. 9:41. If the dog took too long to make its grand appearance, he figured he’d leave. There was no sense in waiting any longer when he could always just check animal control later. Why was he even bothering luring out some possibly missing mutt with lunchmeat when he could already be home? Perhaps a part of him felt bad for the animal, alone on the street and hungry. Yet, as the minutes ticked on, the man began to regret his decision. What had made him, a perfectly rational fellow, decide to hinge his entire evening upon a stray devouring some poor wife’s abandoned sandwich?

Hank had absent-mindedly steadied his eyes upon one of the eternally parked cars, a dull orange sedan, lost to his thoughts as he so often was, when a shadowy break in the streetlights caught his eye. He turned around, feeling an unexpected jolt of excitement.

Sure enough, presently tearing into the crust of the offering, was a brown dog. Of no discernible breed, it had pricked ears, thick fur, and an upright, slightly-curled tail, hinting at some sort of spitz ancestry. Upon initial survey, they were quite adorable. 

“Hey.”, Hank crouched to the ground a few feet from the apparently famished mutt, extending his hand as an offering for an introductory sniff. Tail wagging, the friendly canine abandoned the meat in favor of meeting someone new. The doctor gently ran his hand across the dog’s silky head and ears, detecting no immediate signs of illness despite the warnings he had received earlier.

Feeling content that he had found the adventurous stray, he had neglected to devise the most important part of taking the mongrel home: the means to do so. He hadn’t had time to stop for a leash and collar, with how unexpectedly a potential pet had cropped up into his life. Not seeing any other opportunity, he grabbed hold of the sandwich once more, taking care to avoid the slobbery, half-eaten part. Waving what remained of the snack in front of the dog’s sensitive nose, he began to carefully walk towards his car, as it was only a few feet away. Luckily, the mongrel obediently followed the wafting lunchmeat and white bread. Once close enough, Hank whipped out his car keys from his pocket and unlocked the side passenger door, hurriedly tossing the sandwich onto the seat just in time before the mutt had a chance to jump up and ruin his work clothes. Within an instant, the dog was in the seat, gulping down the final half of the sandwich. He shut the door behind the hungry animal and got into the driver’s side, buckling in and starting the car. He took one last look at his newfound companion, admittedly already quite smitten with its chocolate-brown eyes, specifically evolved for nothing more than manipulating humans with one heart-melting glance.

“Hope’s going to love you.”, he gave the mutt one last affectionate pat on the head before beginning the drive home, “You’re a good dog, aren’t you?”. To tell the truth, he felt silly talking to a dog, yet it seemed… natural. Something in their eyes seemed like they understood each and every word. 

And little did he know at the time, you were certainly no ordinary dog.


	3. Home at Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since my last update, so I'll thank all of my wonderful readers for being so patient! I'd been through a lot of changes in real life so therefore I hadn't much time for writing.
> 
> Enjoy, and thank you for your time!

The drive home was uneventful, at least to your new master’s perspective. However, having never been in this strange, rumbling machine, you panted and yawned frequently, attempting to quell your frazzled nerves. The only home you ever knew turned to a bleary passing scene outside a window. You had no idea where you were going or what this man’s intentions were, although your canine mind was, admittedly, swayed by his delicious offering of a sandwich and a few much-appreciated ear scratches.

As the sky grew black and a slight rain began to patter upon the car’s metallic roof, the vehicle lurched to a stop in the driveway of a generic suburban family home. You peered outside, eyes widened in curiosity, paws placed upon the window out of habit to gain a better view.

“Hey!”, your human companion barked sharply, “Don’t do that. You’ll scratch up my windows.”

Before you could even begin to try to comprehend his words, he had hurriedly pulled your forelegs down from their spot resting beneath the plexiglass. He then got out of the car, coming over to the side you were on, and opening up the door. He whistled sharply, effectively getting your attention to lure you out of the car, hopping out and to his side. Plumed tail wagging, you instantly ran to a nearby bush to find scents, eager to explore this new territory. However, your human companion whistled for you to come back to him, to which you obeyed, somewhat begrudgingly. Your experience with humans was limited, and you hadn’t expected them to be this controlling, seeing as the ones you had encountered previously had outright ignored you.

As the man strolled over to the door, opening it with ease, you poked your wolf-like snout through the gap, wedging your way in before he even had a chance to set one foot upon the hardwood. The human rushed in beside you, seemingly somewhat nervous.

“Hope?”, Hank commanded from the entryway, “I’ve got something for you.”

The little girl seemed hesitant, coming around the corner of the wall with an almost unenthused look on her face. However, the moment she sighted you, her expression changed in an instant to one of sheer joy, eyes alight with excitement and jaw agape with utter shock: a dog of her very own! She squealed and dropped to the floor on her knees, opening her arms to beckon your furry form forth. You happily obliged, tongue lolling and tail wagging, eagerly accepting the flurry of pats and neck scratches the child offered.  
With the initial surprise over, Hope turned her attention to Hank, smiling warmly and engulfing him in a tender hug.

“Thank you, daddy.”, she sobbed amidst happy tears, “Thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, dear.”, Hank did his best to hide his own dampening eyes and wavering voice, “As long as my little girl’s happy, huh? Now, you’ll have to come up with a name for your new friend.”

“Hmm… well… how about Y/D/N?”, the girl turned her attention to you, to which you simply rolled on your back, demanding more petting.

“Y/D/N. I like that.”, Hank nodded, glancing over as his wife entered the room.

“What is all this-oh, my goodness. Hank. What happened to ‘Mr. I’m getting you an ant as a pet?’”, Janet chuckled, bending down beside her daughter to stroke your silky fur.

“Well, this dog just showed up at the lab.”, the middle-aged man shrugged, “Seemed like a sign. I suppose I can get used to having a canine companion around.” While his voice was indifferent to the subject, as you glanced up at the man, his face softened. It seemed nobody could resist your fluffy charms.

And you, for one, had already grown attached to this family - for the first time, a name of your own and a warm home to stay. This marked the beginning of the rest of your new life with the Pym family, and the adventure was just beginning.


	4. The Times, They are A-Changing... For the Worse

As the months rolled on, you became a perfect canine companion to your family. Domestic bliss was a welcome change from the hardscrabble life of a stray you had known, and you adapted well to being a pet as a result. One could even say you excelled at it, were obedience their measure of choice, as you had displayed an unusual aptitude for learning tricks of all sorts, from the basic “sit” to rolling over when presented with a finger-gun from Hope (which was utilized to great avail when guests came over).

You also demonstrated a seemingly preternatural understanding of your human masters, as many pets appear to do. This came in handy for all members of the family when they felt down, yet you shared a special bond with Hope. Not only did the young girl spend the most amount of time with you, but she was also quite often left to her own devices, meaning that a cute, furry playmate was perhaps more appreciated to fill the void her working parents had left in her life.

However, that wasn’t to say her parents outright ignored their beloved child. Janet, especially, took the care to ensure that she made time for her daughter each day. This often meant games, which you particularly enjoyed, being a young and playful canine. A certain favorite was the age-old hide and go seek.

As Janet would close her eyes and count, you’d race along at Hope’s heels as she stuffed the pair of you into a closet or behind a dresser, giggling all the way. When Janet inevitably found you all, you’d bark and wag your tail, grateful for no longer needing to lay still and silent. When the game was over, your child master was usually quite tired. Her mother would tuck her into bed (with you at her side, of course, as the world’s best non-stuffed animal!), kissing her forehead and whispering an ‘I love you’. 

It seemed you had the ideal family life, until it all changed.

The morning started out as any other, with Hank and Janet readying themselves for work. You were sitting beside Hope’s chair at the kitchen table as she ate cereal, desperately hoping for a dropped bite. 

Despite their calm appearances, your keen canine senses detected stress amongst your owner’s parents. Naturally, you weren’t sure why, but the air around them remained tense, even as they spoke sweetly and nonchalantly to their much-loved daughter. All throughout the busy early hours, you remained by Hope’s side, as she eventually got dressed and settled down in bed with a book. You leapt upon the bed beside her, curling up into a fluffy ball. She alternated between stroking your silky back and turning pages on her novel.

“Hope!”, Hank’s voice beckoned from the downstairs foyer, “We’re getting ready to leave.”

Hearing her father’s call, she immediately set down her book and hopped off the bed, racing downstairs. You, alarmed by her sudden movements as you were about to drift into a nap, hurriedly got up and trotted after. You sat down nearby as Hope hugged each of her parents.

“Your father and I will be back soon, sweetie.”, Janet gave her daughter a kiss, “You and Y/D/N be good.” The woman gave you a pat on the head as she said your name.

“We will be. Bye, mommy! Bye, daddy!”, Hope waved at her parents’ retreating backs as she closed the door, then turned to you, grinning, “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves, puppy!”

As she went racing back up the stairs, you playfully chased after your master, with the two of you spending the rest of the day playing and cuddling. Being often left to her own devices, Hope knew a lot for her age, able to prepare her own meals (and, fortunately, dropping you scraps). It wasn’t unusual for her parents’ missions to take an entire day, but she was always excited to greet them as they returned from their important work. As the sky grew dark, Hope stayed awake in bed, clearly anticipating their return despite her heavy eyelids and frequent yawns belying her exhaustion. You were snuggled up at her side, drifting in and out of sleep as she spoke to you.

The hours drew on and on, seemingly like an eternity, and you knew your master was nervous. You licked her face, hoping to cheer her, but to no avail. It wasn’t until the familiar unlocking and turning of the front door, causing your ears to prick up alertly, that she relaxed, racing downstairs. You, naturally, were not far behind.  
There in front of the closed door stood Hank, still clad in his Ant-Man suit, looking solemn. Janet was nowhere in sight, which was certainly unusual. The man simply sighed, staring at his daughter in silence.

“Where’s mommy?”, Hope inquired, descending the final steps to her father.

“Mommy won’t be coming back for a while.”, Hank at last bent down, allowing himself to sob uncontrollably, “She… she was a hero.”

With those words, even with so little explanation, Hope, ever wise beyond her years, seemed to understand. She burst into tears, clinging to her father. You had never witnessed such a spectacle of sadness before, and the best you could do was merge your furry form between them, garnering a few weak pets in between heavy sobs, your pelt eventually growing slightly damp with all the tears. From this moment on, nothing seemed the same.


	5. Old Man, New Tricks

Following Janet’s tragic demise, your family was never quite the same. Hope and Hank grew apart, slowly but surely. As your master grew older, becoming a young woman rather than an immature child, she spoke less and less to her father, growing solemn and cold in all her dealings with him and in her outlook of the world. 

Despite her newfound hardened nature, she retained a soft spot for you. You often became her sole confidant, allowing her to hug you as she cried late at night in her bed, keenly pricked ears hearing her every impassioned word. Sometimes, she swore you’d understood more than the average dog. Were you any more capable of mind and speech, you’d be spouting advice like a furry psychiatrist. 

Nonetheless, there came a time when the pair of you had to part. Hope had decided to move out to further her studies. It wouldn’t be too large a change, as it had seemed to you the two humans in your life had been living apart for years now, but unfortunately, the university dorm she was slated to stay at didn’t allow pets. 

With all of her bags packed away in the van, Hope wasn’t ready to leave without bidding you goodbye. Fortunately, Hank had insisted upon driving her to school, to which she reluctantly agreed. This meant you were due to come along for the ride, eagerly hopping into the backseat and sprawling out comfortably. It was a trip of middling length, not terribly far, yet distant enough where the silence became thick and uncomfortable.

At long last, the car lurched to a stop, to which you clambered over to the front, tail wagging as you moved to lick Hope’s face. Despite her ever-present stoic expression, you knew she was sad. 

“I’ll come back to visit you, okay, puppy? This isn’t goodbye.”, she assured, caressing your soft ears.

“They’ll be in good hands.” Hank attempted to console his daughter.

“I wrote out a care guide on a notepad. It’s on the counter.” Hope avoided eye contact with her father, still petting you.

“I run an entire laboratory. I’m sure I can handle taking care of a mutt for a few weeks.”

Staying silent, Hope exited the van, taking her bags from the trunk. Hank, too, had stepped out, to say a proper goodbye. You watched from the passenger seat of the car, whining as you continually detected the melancholy air.

Your master waved at you one last time, giving her father an awkward hug before stepping away in silence. The older man entered the car as soon as she was out of sight, striding away to the start of her future.

“Looks like it’s just you and me now, Y/D/N.”, Hank murmured to you, to which you looked up at him, your brown eyes meeting with his now-glassy, damp ones. Emitting a soft whimper, you clambered over to his lap, licking away his salty tears, to which he couldn’t help but crack a small grin.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all, pooch.”


End file.
